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Title: Ready and Willing
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***"Wh-what do you mean, you didn't send those flowers?" Will stammered, staring at Hannibal, his eyes wide. "If you didn't, then who did? They knew your name for me -- they called me 'sweet William' in the card that came with the flowers."
"Let me see it." Hannibal held out his hand, his voice authoritative. "If they know my little nickname for you, then they could know what we did in your bedroom last night."
Will felt his face grow hot with embarrassment at the thought of anyone having witnessed just what Hannibal had done to him last night -- and his physical reactions.
If anybody had seen that, then they could use their knowledge to blackmail either of them -- or both of them. He didn't want to have to deal with something like that; he wasn't ashamed of his relationship with Hannibal, but he didn't want it to be public knowledge, either.
"Whoever this is, they're a danger to both of us, Will."
He nodded, unable to look at Hannibal. He was right, of course. Whoever this person was, they had both him and Hannibal by the balls, so to speak. But which of them would be hurt more if their relationship was brought into the open? He didn't think it would be him.
This could be used to destroy Hannibal's practice. Having sex with one of his patients was unethical; he could be brought up on charges.
Of course, he would never go along with it -- he hadn't been coerced, after all. He wanted Hannibal, wanted him with a fierce desire that only seemed to grow stronger every time they were near each other. This wasn't a case of him being forced into anything he didn't want.
No, he'd been seduced, and he'd been utterly willing.
He didn't want this person, whoever they were, to do anything that could harm Hannibal. Whatever it was they wanted, he'd give it to them, as long as Hannibal wasn't dragged into it.
"If they saw the two of us in my house, then they know that we're involved," Will said slowly, wishing that his brain didn't feel like it had suddenly turned to mush. "They might be planning to blackmail one of us -- or both. But we're not going to know until they make another move."
Hannibal frowned at the note in his hand, perusing it again. "I don't think blackmail is the intent here," he said, looking up at Will again with a worried expression.
"Why not?" Now it was Will's turn to frown. "Why else would they send me that note?"
"Read it again, Will." Hannibal shook his head as he handed the card back to Will, studying the younger man's face. "It doesn't sound as though this person is threatening you. It sounds as though they .... want you. In the way that I have you."
For a moment, just a moment, Hannibal's words almost made Will angry. Hannibal didn't "have" him. No one did. He was his own person.
Then the moment passed, and he was reading the note again, trying to view those words in the same way that Hannibal obviously did. Maybe he was right, Will thought, a shudder going through his slender body. Maybe this person wanted him in .... in a sexual way.
He didn't know if the thought frightened him, or made him feel sick. A little bit of both, he decided. He'd never known what it was to have a stalker, but he was starting to feel that he was going to find out just how that felt, up close and personal.
He didn't relish the experience.
What if this person had been watching him for a wile now, and he just hadn't realized it? That thought made him shudder again, this time with distaste. It was creepy to think that someone had been watching him every day, seeing everything he did.
They couldn't see him here, though. There was no way that they could see into Hannibal's house, to know what the two of them had done, twice, here in this room. There was no way they could have seen that portrait that Hannibal had painted of him.
"So you have no idea who this person could be?" Hannibal asked. His voice sounded tight, angry. Will looked up at him, eyes wide, surprised by the tone.
Hannibal was leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, scowling. "No, I don't," Will answered, shaking his head. "What, do you think I want some stranger sending me flowers and knowing about us? I'm not happy about this."
"Of course you're not." Hannibal moved across the room to stand in front of Will, the angry light still in his eyes. "But doesn't it make you feel just the slightest bit .... flattered?"
Will shrugged, feeling uneasy at the question. "Maybe. I don't know."
Hannibal's scowl deepened; in that moment, Will felt like stepping away from him. He looked angry enough to lash out at anything; Will had never seen him like this. But he stood his ground, his blue gaze meeting Hannibal's, his expression defiant.
He gasped when Hannibal reached out to take his face between his hands, leaning close to him and speaking in a low, intense voice.
"You are mine, Will. Mine. You have been mine from the first moment I touched you. And no one, no matter how much they flatter your ego, is going to take you away from me."
Will didn't have time to tell Hannibal that he didn't want to be taken away, that no one else was going to turn his head. Hannibal grasped his wrist, practically pulling him out of the room and towards the stairs that Will knew led up to his bedroom.
He'd never been in that room, but he'd wanted to be. He wanted to be in Hannibal's bed, their bodies joined in passion, pleasure flowing between them.
But not like this. He didn't want Hannibal to take him in anger.
He tried to pull away, but Hannibal held his wrist in too tight a grip. He was literally being dragged up the stairs to Hannibal's bed, and he knew that if they continued on in the state that Hannibal was in, irreparable damage could be done to their budding relationship.
But he didn't dare pull away, not when Hannibal was in this kind of mood. That would only make him angrier, and Will knew that one thing he definitely didn't want to see, or be on the receiving end of, was this man's full-blown anger.
"Hannibal --" He began to speak, but the other man pulled him forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him captive, that dark gaze boring into his.
"I'm going to take you, Will," he said, his voice very soft, barely above a whisper, the words echoing in Will's ears as though he'd screamed them. "I'm going to take you in my bed, so you will know that you belong to me and only me."
Will could only nod, the words he'd planned to speak vanishing from his mind. He wanted this, needed it like he needed air to breathe. He wasn't ashamed of that need.
He wanted to indulge that need to the fullest, lose himself in it.
Maybe this wouldn't end well, but he was committed to seeing it through. He'd let Hannibal bring him up here -- and besides, he had wanted to be in Hannibal's bed. This might not have been the way he'd envisioned that happening, but it was happening nonetheless.
"Go into the bedroom and take your clothes off," Hannibal told him, his voice still very soft, but carrying that unmistakable undertone of command. "I'll join you in a few minutes."
With those words, he released will and moved back down the hallway to the stairs. Will turned, heading for the open door of what had to be Hannibal's bedroom. His heart was racing, thumping so loudly in his chest that he was sure Hannibal could hear it.
This wasn't how he had wanted things to go, but he had no choice other than to accept them. His only other choice was to run away, and he wouldn't do that.
No, he would stand his ground, whatever the cost might be.
Running away would only prove that he was a coward, that he didn't have the courage to reach out for what he wanted. He didn't want Hannibal to see him in that way -- and moreover, he didn't want to view himself in that kind of light.
There had been too many things in his life that he'd run from, either because he was terrified of them, or because he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle them without falling apart. This time, he was going to face whatever might happen, rather than turning away from it.
Will reached for the buttons on his shirt, starting to undo them as quickly as he could. He would be naked before Hannibal returned, ready and willing for whatever came next.
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